Thursday, March 2, 2006
Dear Angel of Music,
The depression's finally caught up with me. I guess in all of today's excitement it didn't have a chance to sink in. He rejected me! He doesn't like me! The one and only person I have ever felt so strongly about in my entire life doesn't like me. And on top of that I fucked up what we already had, there isn't a very good chance our friendship will ever be the same again. And it is my entire selfish fault. I was too self-centered to appreciate what I already had, and wanted more, as usual. So I went and put our friendship on the line for my own selfish reasons. And now it will probably never be the same again. God! How could I have been so stupid! I've probably ruined anything we ever had between us, and my only consolation is that he at least liked me as a friend, because he asked if we could still be friends. Not much of a consolation. I hate being depressed.
To think, that I will never see his smiling face again without remembering that moment.
(Flashback)
Nikie: Well the truth is… I like someone else.
Sarah: Oh… Okay, cool… t-t-that's… That's fine…
Sarah's face fell with a look of true brokenness on it. She tipped her head forward and let her dark hair fall in front of her face like a rippling dark waterfall, so Nikie wouldn't see her tears, as they seared hot wet paths down her cheeks. Her eyes burned like someone had rubbed burning coals in them. And she knew she would never know him again, the same way she had known him before. And it hurt. A lot.
(End flashback)
That was the last time I saw him angel. He's been avoiding me ever since then. I want to see him. I wonder why he avoids me so. I want to see him badly, and yet I don't. I'm frightened and shy. I know I shouldn't be, but I am. I feel like a coward, but I think he's a coward for avoiding me. Maybe I have a split personality. No, that's stupid, I can't have a split personality, I am just confused. Oh but I'm so confused! It's like a disease I can't rid myself of. A feeling I can't shake off. I hate this. I hate myself. I hate Nikie. I want to hate him, but I can't get rid of that feeling of longing; longing to be with him every waking moment, to experience the spark of love that happens when lips meet for the first time, the spark I've only read about. I want to know always, that he loves me. But no. He doesn't and never will.
He thinks he's going to die, or get a horrible sickness, and pass it on to others because he has a weak immune system. He thinks of himself as a sickly boy that doesn't have much life left to live. He's afraid to be close with anyone, and he runs away from intense emotion of any kind. Nikie has a sad story to tell, and I'm part of it. I'm Sarah, the weirdo he rejected. He likes someone else. I'm not that someone. I wish I was.
And I'm mad. Both of the meanings of the word mad could apply to me, I do believe this ordeal is driving me to insanity, but I am also angry at myself. I'm mad at the world, I'm mad at life, and I'm mad at Nikie. I want him to die and be tortured with guilt and remorse for turning me down. But no; I don't, I want him to be safe and cozy somewhere where nothing can hurt him. I want him to be happy and untroubled. Because if he's happy, it makes me happy. Or at least happier… No, I'm not happy. And I never will be happy. Not if he doesn't love me. And he could never love this wench that is me. This silly girl who is so selfish and stupid. No.
It's not as if I blame him. It's not as if I'm pretty, and you've got to be stupid to wear your heart on your sleeve… like I do. Did. Never again will I be so ignorant with someone I love. Alas, I will never love anyone else the way I do Nikie. Please angel, what should I do? I need help. I need to know that someone really is there, watching over me, because at this point, I'm starting to feel neglected and abandoned. I am starting to doubt that I even have an angel of music. I mean, what did I ever do to deserve one? And yet I think knowing the truth will somehow comfort me. Please, if you are up there angel, do something; anything. Give me a sign.
Sincerely wretched and confused,
Sarah Beetrock